


House of Dark Shadows

by Macx



Category: Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-14
Updated: 2011-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 09:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Winston are on their way home when a bad weather front forces them to spend the night at a hotel. A place where they are not welcome...</p>
            </blockquote>





	House of Dark Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> originally written in the mid-nineties

It was raining. Not just a few drops. It was a literal downpour. There was water everywhere. A car fought its way through the curtain of rain along the street that looked more like a river now. Hours of rain had made it slippery and dangerous. The windshield wipers were moving at high speed, trying to get the water faster off the screen than it fell on it again. No such luck. It was impossible to tell how much the driver could see, but the best guess was, it wasn't much.  
"Any idea were we are?" he asked the other man in the car.  
"Somewhere around Mount Ararat. I think I just saw the Ark float by," Peter Venkman answered darkly, staring out of the side window.  
"We passed Oakbridge hours ago," Winston Zeddemore, the driver, said as if to himself. "We should have been at the junction only a few miles after the town." He shook his head. "What does the map say?"  
Peter rummaged through the glove compartment and came up with an old looking piece of paper. It was a map. "It says there isn't any Oakbridge around here." He looked at the print date. "Well, in 1934 this might have been true," he added sourly.  
Winston rolled his eyes. "Great. I think we're lost."  
"That makes me feel so much better now that you've said it, thank you." Peter stuffed the map back into the glove department and closed it with an audible snap. "We should turn around."  
"I don't think that's a good idea, Pete. We don't know where we are and turning back could mean we get lost. More lost than we already are."  
Peter wanted to say something when Winston suddenly stopped the car. In the headlights a sign could be seen. It stood at the roadside and said 'Howard Mansion Hotel'.  
"Is it on the map?" he asked his colleague and friend.  
Venkman pulled out the map again. "Nope," he answered after a few minutes of intense search. "But maybe they got a phone so we can call the guys and let them know we won't return tonight."  
Winston nodded. "Good idea, Pete"  
"I only got good ideas."  
Zeddemore chuckled and drove up the muddy excuse for a drive-way leading to the Howard Mansion Hotel, if the sign was correct. And the sign was correct.  
"Saw 'Psycho' lately?" Peter asked as the house came into view.  
Howard Mansion Hotel was a two-storey house that appeared old and in bad shape. It looked as if some construction work was done on the right part of the whitish-gray building since there was a scaffold and some plastic covering. Most of the high windows  
were dark or barred with wooden planks. Zeddemore

 

parked the car close to the small roof-like  
construction extending over the entrance and turned off the engine.  
"Here we are," he announced. "Looks a bit shabby and it must be really old."  
"Yeah, like right out of the 18th century. And they haven't renovated it since," Venkman murmured glumly.  
"At least they got a phone." Winston pointed at the long-distance lines. "And that's the only thing I'm interested in. Besides a warm, nice bed maybe."  
"Looks to me like no one's home," his friend said as he peered out of the window. The rain was still as strong as before.  
"Can't hurt to knock."  
With a sigh Peter grabbed the door handle. "Let's get it over with." With that he opened the door and ran over to the entrance of the hotel.  
Winston did the same, arriving slightly wet at Peter's side. The psychologist rang the bell and was waited for an answer.  
"Maybe they've already closed for the night," Winston said after two minutes of waiting. "Maybe this house no longer operates as a hotel."  
Peter rang the bell again. "Maybe. Maybe not."  
Suddenly the door opened and a woman looked at them. She was wearing a robe and appeared to have been either asleep or just about to go to sleep.  
"Good evening, ma'm," Peter greeted her. "I'm sorry we disturbed you, but we got lost and saw the sign that this is a hotel and ....."  
"It's closed," she interrupted him. "Howard Mansion closed down three months ago. I'm sorry."  
"But the sign ....." Peter began.  
"I didn't remove it. Sorry." She ran a hand through her hair and stared at the rain pouring down. "You have to find other accommodations." She was about to close the door.  
"I'm not sure we find some," Winston held her back. "We got lost on our way back to New York. And the map we have is so old it doesn't even show Oakbridge. Maybe we could use your phone and call our friends? They'll worry about us if we don't return."  
She eyed them, then nodded, opening the door a bit more. "Come in." She sounded somehow weary and unhappy.  
The two men entered and found themselves in an unlit hall. There were some pieces of furniture standing at the walls, covered by white linen. There must have been pictures on the walls once, Winston noticed, since there were lighter spots on the dark wall paper. Three doors led away from the hall and a large staircase went to the second floor. Everything looked deserted.  
"The phone's over here," the woman said.  
"Thank you." Winston walked over, picked up the receiver and dialed the number of Ghostbuster Central.  
In the meantime Peter tried to make small talk with their host. "I'm Peter Venkman," he introduced himself.  
"Katherine Cooper," she said and accepted his hand.  
"This must have been a very nice place," Venkman observed casually. "Why'd you close it down?"  
She bit her lower lip. "I couldn't go on any more. Too much work." Katherine Cooper ran a hand over her eyes. "But that's the past. You are from New York?"  
Peter accepted the change of topic and nodded. "Yes. Winston Zeddemore, my colleague, and I had a gig in one of the schools in Benton. We left a bit later than we intended and then it started to rain. It's an ocean out there." He put some mock outrage in his voice.  
She reacted to this overreaction and smiled. "It's normal for this time of the year, though we haven't had so much rain for the last ten years. You said you had a 'gig'?"  
"Uh-huh. The school invited us to show some of our stuff and since Egon and Ray, that are our other two colleagues, couldn't come we drove there alone. The kids loved us."  
"You are a band?" Doubt rang in her voice.  
"Band? No. We're the Ghostbusters." Peter pointed at the no ghost patch on his uniform and struck a pose. "Please don't tell me you don't recognize the famous Dr. Venkman!" He gave her a pleading look.  
She shook her head. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, Dr. Venkman, but I am a little bit out of touch out here. I only watch the headline news, that's all."  
Peter looked crestfallen. "Mrs. Cooper, I'm shocked ," he moaned. Then he brightened. "Hey, now you met us in person and I can tell you all about our dangerous and daring adventures."  
That drew another smile from her and this time it seemed to reach her eyes, but those dark eyes seemed still hollow.  
"Pete, I called Ghostbuster Central. There's nobody home and I only got the answering machine. I told them we'll try to find a motel somewhere and call tomorrow."  
Peter nodded and turned to Mrs. Cooper. "Thanks for letting us use your phone. Could we ask one more favor? Do you know a motel somewhere around here?"  
Different emotions flashed over her face and she looked out of the window into the pouring rain. "Listen, I changed my mind. I can't let you out in that monsoon again. You can stay here for the night. I have one room that's still okay."  
Peter beamed. "That sounds marvelous to me, Mrs. Cooper. Thank you."  
"Thank you," Winston thanked her, too. "I'll go and get our stuff. Do you have an umbrella?"  
She nodded and went over to a closet, opened it and took out an old umbrella that seemed to be at least as old as the house. Winston took it and went outside to the car to get their stuff -- which wasn't much. They hadn't planned to spend a night somewhere. Mrs. Cooper turned to Peter.  
"I'll show you to your room. It isn't much. I sold most of the furniture."  
"As long as it looks and feels like a bed I'll take anything." Peter followed her up the stairs to the second floor.  
Mrs. Cooper opened one of the many doors and switched on the light. The room really wasn't much. There was a large bed and a small night table. Two chairs stood at the wall and all the pictures had been removed.  
"That'll do more than fine," the dark-haired psychologist told their host with a smile. "Thanks."  
"The bathroom is down the corridor. Third door on the left. Do you need anything else?"  
He shook his head. "No, that's just fine."  
Mrs. Cooper nodded and left the room. Peter watched her, wondering what it was that sat so heavily on her. She seemed depressed, tired and appeared older than the mid-thirties Peter guessed she was in. Something must have happened that had hurt her emotionally. He sighed and decided to go and pay the bathroom a visit.

*

Winston locked Ecto-1's door and ran back to the Howard Mansion Hotel, his and Peter's stuff in one hand. When he entered the hotel he put the umbrella in the umbrella-stand. Peter was no-where in sight and Zeddemore guessed he was already in their room -- wherever that was. Hesitating a bit -- he was in a stranger's house so he didn't want to be caught snooping around -- he went over to one door. The door was slightly ajar and he could hear voices and laughter from inside the room.  
"Hello?" he asked and pushed the door open.  
The room seemed to be the living room. There was a couch, two armchairs and a TV-set. On the wall were still pictures and on one side of the room was a collection of weapons, mainly consisting of daggers and old pistols and guns. The TV was switched on and Winston could see a man and a woman in a park, laughing and generally having fun. The woman looked like Mrs. Cooper. The man was not much older than she was. He had dark hair and was wearing a mustache. He was chasing the woman around and they fell down, still laughing, and rolled on the grass.  
"Happy birthday," the man said and kissed her.  
Feeling he was intruding on something Winston turned around and nearly collided with Mrs. Cooper.  
"Uh," he stuttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to ... I was just looking for my friend."  
She shook her head, walking over to the table in front of the couch and taking the remote control. With it she turned down the volume, but not switching off the TV. "You are not intruding, Mr. Zeddemore." Her eyes lingered on the TV screen where the couple was kissing passionately.  
"Is he your husband?" Winston asked carefully.  
"Yes," she said softly. "That video was made half a year ago. Just before he left for overseas. It was my birthday." Winston saw tears gathering in her eyes, but she didn't cry. "We had so much fun." She seemed to talk to herself, her voice devoid of all emotions.  
"Uh," the Ghostbuster said. He knew he should say something, but he really didn't know what. "Is he still working overseas?" he finally asked.  
She shook her head. "No. When he left the next day he promised to call the minute he was at the hotel. He never called. The bus he took to get from the airport to the hotel had an accident. They told me he died immediately. He felt no pain."  
Winston didn't know what to say. The pain was there, but she didn't let it out and the more she surepressed it, the more she suffered. "I'm sorry," he said, wishing Peter was here. As a psychologist this was more his métier.  
"It was not your fault," their host answered automatically as if she was programmed to say it everytime someone said 'I am sorry'. She blinked and finally looked at him. "Your friend is in the room on the second floor. Second door on the right side."  
Winston recognized the polite, unspoken plea to leave her alone and nodded, leaving. He went up the stairs and found the room -- but not Peter. He dumped the few things he had taken out of the car on the bed and was just going for the door to look for Peter when the psychologist entered.  
"Hi, Pete. Where've you been?"  
"Bathroom. And you?"  
Winston sat down on the bed with a sigh. Then he told his friend what had happened downstairs. "I feel sorry for her," he concluded his story.  
Peter nodded. "I know what you mean. But we can't do anything about it. She lost her husband and she mourns for him. It's natural to do that and everyone has different ways to do it."  
"You're right, but I don't have to like it." The black Ghostbuster got rid of his damp pants and the went to bed. "She looked so ... helpless."  
"I don't think she'll accept our help, Winston." Venkman shrugged. "She'll get over it in time." He was just about to go to bed, too, when a scream echoed through the house. Both men looked at each other and then quickly dressed. Peter was the first at the door and he ran down the stairs, closely followed by Winston. When they arrived in the livingroom they found Katherine Cooper standing at the other side of the room, her back pressed against the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was as pale as a ghost.  
"Mrs. Cooper?" Winston asked, stepping carefully into the room.  
The woman stared at him and started to shake. Peter looked around the room, but couldn't see anything frightening enough to make someone scream.  
"Are you all right?" Winston went on, coming closer to her. "What happened?"  
"He ... he was here," she stuttered. "It was him!"  
"He?" Peter asked, still looking around. The windows were closed and except for them there was no-one in the room. "Who?"  
"Harold," she whispered. "He was here. I saw him." She pointed a shaking finger to where the weapons hung on the wall. "He was here." Tears were spilling down her cheeks.  
"Harold? Who is Harold?" the psychologist pressed on gently.  
Wide, dark eyes fixed on him. "He's .... he's my husband. He died overseas." Her voice wavered and Peter knew that Mrs. Cooper was close to breaking down. He glanced at Winston.  
The black Ghostbuster shrugged, not knowing what to say. Sure, they had experience with that kind of things, but he wasn't sure that Mrs. Cooper had really seen a ghost or if it had just been frayed nerves.  
"And now you saw your husband in this room?" Peter asked, his voice still gentle as he came closer to her.  
She nodded. "He just stood there. He looked so sad." She bit her lip. "You don't believe me, do you?"  
The two men traded glances again. "We're Ghostbusters, ma'm," the psychologist evaded a direct answer. "Ghosts are nothing new to us."  
"But you don't believe that I saw a ghost, do you?" She shrugged, walking over to the TV which was still running. She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself. "I mean, it sounds crazy. A widow seeing the ghost of her dead husband. Classical case, right? But I did see him!"  
Peter held up his hands in a soothing gesture. "We believe you, Mrs. Cooper," he told her. "Just let us get our equipment and we'll take a look around, okay?"  
She nodded, her eyes fixed on the TV. It played the scene in the park again, Katherine Cooper and her husband having fun and laughing. She didn't seem to notice the two men leaving and returning again. Winston was carrying a P.K.E. meter while Peter had taken a proton pack. They had used the devices to show the kids at the school some 'magic'. He didn't know whether he would really need the pack, but better be on the safe side. Winston switched on the P.K.E. meter and scanned the room. As he came to the spot where Mrs. Cooper had supposedly seen her husband the meter reacted.  
"Pete," Zeddemore said softly.  
The other Ghostbuster walked over to him and glanced at the meter. His eyebrows rose in astonishment. "That's a reading!" he said.  
"Yeah, it is. And it says that there was a Class-3 apparition here. Looks like Mrs. Cooper really saw a ghost."  
Peter frowned. "But was it her husband? And if yes, what's he doing here?"  
"Maybe some unfinished business?"  
"Possible," the psychologist muttered. He turned and faced their host. "Mrs. Cooper, there is definitely some paranormal activity here ....." he began.  
"Harold!" she whispered, her eyes widening even more -- if possible. She looked around the room. "Harold?" she called.  
"Mrs. Cooper." Peter placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't know if this is your husband. It could be anything."  
She flashed an angry look at him. "It was him! I saw him! He stood in here and he looked at me!"  
Venkman nodded. "Okay," he said slowly. "It could be him."  
"I know it. Harold came back!" A happy smile crossed her lips and she walked around the room, calling, searching for the ghost of her husband.  
Winston watched her, shaking his head. "Peter, she's breaking apart because of this. We can't be sure the ghost is her husband. And we can't be sure it isn't. What'll we do?"  
Venkman looked indecisive. "I don't know. I wish Egon or Ray were here. They'd know."  
"But they aren't. It's just us," his friend reminded him.  
Peter nodded. He looked at the P.K.E. meter. "Maybe we could try to find him -- whoever he is."  
"Good idea." Winston began to calibrate the meter. He wasn't nearly as good as Egon when it came to their equipment, but he understood the basics. Seconds later he scanned the room again, trying not to listen to Mrs. Cooper calling her husband. "Got something," he suddenly said.  
Peter readied his thrower. Something materialized as if whatever it was had heard Winston's exclamation. It was a man all right. Except for his translucent appearance and the undefined edges of his body he looked completely human. He was dressed in a light suit. His eyes fixed on Mrs. Cooper.  
Katherine Cooper seemed transfixed to the spot. One hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle a cry. Her dark eyes were wide as saucers and she started to shake. "Harold!" she finally whispered.  
The ghostly appearance stretched out a hand as if to touch her, then withdrew the hand. It looked very sad and guilty.  
"Peter," Winston hissed under his breath. "What now?"  
The psychologist was at a loss. If it had been a raging, slobbering slime-slinging monster he would have come to a decision right away. But this situation called for more than just firing the throwers at full power and trapping the ghost. If this man really was Harold Cooper he had come here for a purpose -- at least that was what Peter thought was the only logical solution. Slowly, Venkman shrugged out of the proton pack and gave it to Winston.  
"Keep that ready. I'll try to talk to our visitor."  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"  
"No," he answered truthfully. "But it's the only thing I can think of right now." Then he walked over to Katherine Cooper. She didn't seem to notice him. Her eyes were fixed on the ghost of her husband. "Mr. Cooper?" Peter addressed the ghost.  
The apparition turned his mourning gaze on him and nodded.  
"Hi," the psychologist went on. "My name's Peter. I was wondering what you're doing here." He looked expectantly at him.  
The ghost looked at his wife, again trying to reach out for her and again withdrawing his hand. His mouth opened and closed as if he tried to say something. Suddenly a name floated through the air. "Kathy."  
Mrs. Cooper broke into a sob of happiness. "Oh, Harold," she whispered. "I miss you so."  
"Kathy," the ghost repeated. "No. Don't."  
Bewildered, she stared at him. "Harold?" Mrs. Cooper started to walk to where he stood.  
Peter stretched out one hand and held her back. "Mrs. Cooper," he said intently.  
"Let me go!" she demanded. "He is my husband!"  
"Your husband is dead," the psychologist told her as gently as possible. "This is a ghost looking like your husband."  
"No!" she cried. "It's Harold!" Tear-filled eyes fixed on the apparition. "You are back!"  
"No," the ghost repeated, his voice getting stronger and the word could be heard at nearly the same time as he moved his mouth. "Let go."  
"Tell me you are back to stay," Katherine Cooper begged. "We will be whole again, you and me. Please ...."  
"Let me go," her dead husband whispered pleadingly. "I can't stay here."  
Suddenly Peter understood. "She called him," he told Winston in a low voice. "He's here because of her, Winston! She's the link!"  
"What?" Disbelief rang in his friend's voice.  
"You told me she was watching the old homevideos of herself and her husband. She misses him so much and keeps holding on to him so strongly that it called his ghost back to this house. She has to let go of him so he can leave to wherever he was going!"  
Zeddemore looked at the woman. She was wearing a happy expression, advancing on her husband, hands outstretched. "I think that'll prove to be a problem, man. She won't be convinced easily."  
Peter nodded. "I know. She loves him very much, but that love will bind him to this place for all eternity if she doesn't let go." He sighed. "Here we go: a job for Peter Venkman. No applause, please. The Doctor needs quiet." He flashed Winston a grin and then walked over to the unlikely pair.  
Mrs. Cooper had reached her husband, who looked at her with sad eyes. She tried to touch him, but her hand passed through him. With a little gasp of surprise she withdrew her hands. "Harold?"  
"He is a ghost, Mrs. Cooper," Peter said softly, startling her a bit. "Ghosts are usually insubstantial."  
"But ... but he looks so real." Her lower lip quivered.  
"Because that's how you imagined him. You are doing this, Mrs. Cooper."  
"Me?"  
The psychologist nodded. "Yes. You brought him back. Am I right, Harold?" He looked at the ghost.  
The apparition nodded. "Let go," it then said.  
"Let go? I just found you again! I can't let go, Harold! I love you!"  
"No," he moaned, his expression becoming even more sad.  
"He knows that you love him, Kathy," Peter told her. "But if you hold on to him he won't be able to go where he has to go."  
"He doesn't have to go!" she said intensely. "We will be together! Here."  
"Are you really ready to bind your husband to this house? Are you ready to see him as a ghost every day?" Peter knew he had to tell her the truth, how hard it may be for her. "Are you ready to condemn him to this form of eternal existence?"  
"No!" Katherine Cooper cried. "I just want us to be together again! I miss you, Harold. I don't want to go on without you!"  
Harold Cooper sighed, shaking his head. "Love you, Kathy. Let me go."  
Peter put a hand on her shoulder. "If you really love him let him go. You have to go on with your life and he has to go on to his place."  
Large, tear-filled eyes fixed at the ghost. An expression of love passed Harold Cooper's ghostly face. "Let go," he repeated.  
She sobbed. "It hurts," she got out between sobs. "It hurts so much."  
Venkman squeezed her shoulder, not daring to take her into her arms. "I know. Harold knows. But it has to be done."  
She sniffed and nodded. Then she looked at her dead husband. "I love you, Harold," she whispered. "I love you like I've never loved a man before. I ... I had to sell the hotel and I will move away from here."  
The ghost shook his head, sadness deepening in his eyes. "I am so sorry, Kathy. I never wanted you to suffer like this."  
Harold Cooper's voice was getting stronger, Peter noticed, not knowing whether this was a good sign or not. Kathrine moved away from Peter again and made some more steps towards the ghost.  
"I can't live without you, Harry," she whispered, touching the apparition again. "But I also can't condemn you to spend your life here with me." She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Then, with a movement faster than anyone could have expected, she grabbed a dagger from the wall.  
Peter didn't need someone telling him what Kathrine Cooper wanted to do. "No!" he yelled.  
The woman turned, her eyes wide and filled with tears. "Stay back," she ordered with a shaky voice, holding the dagger in front of her. "Stay back!"  
The psychologist gave Winston a quick glance and the black man nodded. He wouldn't move a single inch. Peter then concentrated on Kathrine.  
"I will stay where I am," he said softly, his voice calm. "But you're not solving any problems with committing suicide, Kathy."  
"I will be with Harry again," the woman cried, gesturing at her husband with her free hand.  
The apparition hadn't moved and stared at his wife with large eyes.  
"There is no guarantee that this will be so," Peter told her. "We have the experience that people dying violently by their own hand are bound to their place of death. You might haunt this place forever while your husband could go on. But because you don't want to let him go he has to spend his afterlife here, too."  
"Shut up!" she yelled, waving the dagger.  
Peter stayed where he was, though the blade was coming close. Too close for comfort. "Either way you will condemn Harold to an afterlife he doesn't deserve. Kathy, do you really want that?"  
"No! But it's the only way! I can't go on!" She was shaking now, but her hand still clutched the knife.  
In the meantime Winston had decided that he might be able to do more if he could come around Kathy. She was fixed on Peter and didn't really see him. So the black Ghostbuster had moved off to Peter's right, trying to keep the apparition of Harold Cooper between himself and Kathrine Cooper. He was only about three more meters away from her when she saw him. Peter saw his friend too, but had no way to tell him to stop, because at just this moment Kathrine Cooper decided to make her move.  
Peter reacted. He couldn't let her committ suicide. It wasn't a solution. It wasn't the way out. He launched himself at her as she twisted the dagger to stab herself, and grabbed her wrists. Kathrine screamed in outrage and blind anger, twisting in his hold. The blade of the dagger flashed dangerously between them.  
Winston had no other choice than to watch. Suddenly there came a sharp exclamation of pain from Peter and the psychologist drew back a little. Worry and fear gave Winston more than enough reason to enter the fight nevertheless. As Peter fell down to one side Zeddemore grabbed the dagger and twisted it out of Kathrine Cooper's hand. The woman was too shocked offer any resistence. Her eyes were fixed on Peter, who was holding his left arm.  
"Peter!" Winston exclaimed and knelt down at the younger man's side, the dagger safely tugged away.  
Venkman blinked at him and Winston tried to get a better look at the injury. There was a long and but not very deep cut in Peter's left forearm, bleeding sluggishly. It looked like a worse case of paper cut. Peter had been very lucky. With a few, expert moves Winston used a pillow case to still the bleeding completely. Venkman winced once or twice, biting his lip, but kept still. All the time Kathrine Cooper stood like rooted to the spot. Her lower lip quivered and she was crying, but no sound came over her lips. When Winston was done Peter tried to get up. The black Ghostbuster sighed silently, knowing that arguing didn't help, and helped him.  
"I didn't want that....!" the woman cried hysterically. "I didn't, I didn't, I didn't!"  
"Kathrine," Peter said calmly, shoving the pain coming from his cut arm to a far corner of his mind. "Kathrine, please listen to me."  
"I didn't want that, I didn't!" She fell down on her knees and sobbed.  
"I know," the psychologist told her softly. "I know, Kathy. No one blames you." He smiled and stepped over to her.  
She flinched away from him, hugging herself. "I want to be with him again," she whimpered.  
"Yes, but that is not possible. Harold is dead, Kathy."  
She shook her head. "No-no-no-no!" she cried.  
"You have to accept it." Peter knelt down in front of her, cradling his arm, trying to get her attention. "You have to let him go. He has to go on." He risked a look towards the ghost of Harold Cooper. He had come closer, his body appearing very solid, nearly like a living human being. But his eyes had grown more and more despaired and sad.  
"He is right, Kathy," the apparition addressed his widow. "You can't come with me."  
The woman shook her head. Peter placed his right hand on her arms and squeezed them.  
"How can I live without you?" she suddenly whispered. "How can I go on? I don't see any future ahead of me. There is nothing left."  
"You still have your life," Peter reminded her.  
"Life? What is my life without Harry?" She sniffed.  
"A new start," her dead husband answered her. "Take this chance and live, Kathrine."  
"I ... I can't. Not without you."  
The ghost moved even closer, kneeling down beside Peter. The psychologist shivered a bit as he felt the coldness of the apparition's ectoplasmn.  
"You can," Harold Cooper said firmly. "You are a very strong woman, Katherine Madeleine Cooper. That's why I love you so much. It's one characteristic of yours I always admired. You helped me run the hotel when everything was against us; you gave me your strength when we thought nothing would ever go right. You are strong, Kathy; you can do it, and I will always be with you, though you can neither hear nor see me."  
"How can I find that strength again without you?" she asked.  
"You can. It is inside you. We will see each other again, but now is not the time for you to leave. I will wait for you, Kathy."  
The woman's dark eyes looked at the loving face of her husband. "I love you," she whispered.  
"And I love you, too. I always will."  
She smiled. Then she kissed her fingertips and touched his mouth with them. The ghost took her hand in his and suddenly dissolved into a bluish mist that dissipated fast.  
When the last of the mist was gone Mrs. Cooper broke down completely. She sobbed and Peter pulled her to him, his right arm encircling her shoulders while he kept his left arm close to his body. It hurt like hell now, but he endured it silently. Over her shaking shoulders he caught Winston's eyes. The black man was taking readings of the room and finally gave Peter a 'thumbs-up'. Venkman smiled and hugged their shaken host. It was over and they didn't even have to trap the ghost. Those were those little moments in ghostbusting he really treasured. Most of the ghosts they encountered were dangerous, violent or unable to resolve peacefully. But then there were those like Harold Cooper. He had left this plane of existence and Peter was sure he would be happy were he went now.  
He sighed silently, feeling a little dizzy all of a sudden.  
"Peter?" That was Winston. He had knelt beside the two and was carefully detaching Kathrin from the injured man.  
"Yeah?" Tired green eyes looked at the black man.  
"I think I'm gonna get you upstairs and cleaned up, m'man." Winston shook his head as he looked at the bandage. "How come you always get in such situations?"  
Peter grinned. "I'm a natural."

* * *

The morning came slowly and the sun tried to breach through the clouds still clinging to the sky. It looked like the rain from last night would continue this day. There was already a light drizzle. The monsoon rain they had arrived in had stopped somewhere in the early morning hours. Mrs. Katherine Cooper had prepared them a light breakfast with a strong coffee. She had not expected to host anyone so she had few things to have for breakfast in her kitchen. The two Ghostbusters had assured her that they didn't mind.  
"It was really nice of you to let us spent the night at your house," Winston said and poured himself another cup of coffee. "We're well aware that it wasn't easy for you."  
The dark-haired woman gave him a tired smile. But the tiredness came from sleeping only a few hours, not from her former problems. Winston could see a new light in her eyes that banished the shadows of sorrow and mourning that had been there before. She was still a bit fidgety and her eyes lingered on Peter's left arm from time to time. The cut was not dangerous and wouldn't need stitching, but it was painfull. Winston would drag his friend to a doctor when they were back in New York this afternoon. It had been a real test for his nerves to get Peter to swallow the pain-killers from Ecto's emergency kit.  
Peter had told Kathrine that he wouldn't charge her with assault, but he wanted her to see a psychiatrist. She had agreed, though reluctantly.  
"I think I have to thank you, too," Kathrine Cooper said.  
Peter waved dismissively with his fork while chewing on his ham. "No thanks necessary, Mrs. Cooper."  
She shook her head. "It is necessary, Dr. Venkman. You helped me come to terms with myself and the world around me. I ... I would have condemned my husband to continue existing like that. It would have broken me."  
Peter nodded, his eyes serious. "But you didn't. In the end you let him go because you loved him." He smiled. "You did the right thing."  
She returned the smile. "Thank you," she simply said.  
One hour later Peter and Winston said good-bye to Mrs. Cooper. She wished them a good journey home and promised to pay them a visit if she ever came to New. York. As Winston drove down the way leading from Howard Manor Hotel to the main street he gave Peter a piece of paper.  
"Mrs. Cooper drew me a map. This way we should find the junction where we went wrong last night."  
Peter took the paper and nodded. "She's on  
her way to get over the experience," he said.  
Zeddemore nodded, too. "Yeah. I wish her the best." He cast a last look in the rearview mirror and smiled.  
"Likewise." The psychologist turned the map in every direction. "Okay, where are we and where do we want to go?"  
Winston groaned. "The moment we get home I'll give you a lesson in map-reading."  
Peter only stuck out his tongue.


End file.
